… entries of a girl with a condition

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Why do I do this to myself? Over and over and over and over again… Like a giant wheel that refuses to stop. I see the same sights. Sights that once enticed me with the adrenaline rush of being something new, good bad it ugly… Today kill me with the repetitiveness. One would think that I’d be numb to it by now… Like an album song that suddenly becomes viral and is literally everywhere including as the background score to your dream. But no… I’m not numb. I’m still affected. And badly. But yet I do nothing to change it. Or maybe I do, but I don’t do enough. It’s like I enjoy the torture.

Be is being affected by other’s comments or opinions, finding abusive partners, making plans and failing… Everything is on loop mode. Like the playlist you once created on your old ipod that you’ve been too lazy to change and now the familiarity breeds as much contempt as it does happiness.

Should stop. Should say enough. Until then, let the masochist in me enjoy. Sorry girl. He wins again.

Shaved off my hair. Was timed to match my surgery but was done for a zillion reasons other than the surgery. Want to get rid of everything I possibly can from my past. Want a fresh start this coming year.

Want to start without the inhibitions, doubts, questions, anything I had earlier. Try things with an open mind. Things can’t get worse than this year’s been, right?

I have noone to even ping in frustration. No friends to reach out to vent or cry or even talk to. Tried catching up with a friend recently but turns out that other than girl talk or having fun, I can’t talk to her.

C is dead. So other than msging on her number on WhatsApp, there is nothing I can do. I try talking out loud to her.

Am I doomed to be alone for life? If so how do I come to terms with it?

Why did he come into my life, hurt me like all the others and then leave? And now act like he is the victim. Victim of what?

I thought I was better. That I was making better decisions. Choosing better human beings.

I was so wrong. I made the same mistake.

Instead of physical or sexual abuse, I found a partner who is emotionally​ abusive. Very. That’s another tick in that column!

Actually no. I’m not sad. I’m angry. Pissed off at him for being such a douche. And myself for falling for it.